


Standing by your side while miles apart

by veretianblue (clptr)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 19:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13219938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clptr/pseuds/veretianblue
Summary: Modern AU. World-class tennis player Damen and successful mystery writer Laurent find that time zones make it difficult to celebrate New Year’s together. A telephone conversation.





	Standing by your side while miles apart

**Author's Note:**

> Title from BwO’s _Sunshine in the Rain_. Warning for no plot whatsoever  & sappiness. 
> 
> Dedicated to all the lovely CaPri fans I met this year. ♡♡♡
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR, Captive Prince fandom!

The cell phone on Laurent’s nightstand in his San Francisco hotel room starts blaring a pop song ringtone.

He picks up before the second line finishes. “Hello, lover.”

“Laurent,” comes Damen’s rich voice from the phone. “I hope I’m not waking you up, my love.”

“Luckily for you, I’m still on CET time. And apparently you’re now my ‘sunshine in the rain’, even at 4 in the morning. Nicaise changed the ringtone again.”

“I’ve been called worse,” says Damen and Laurent can hear the smile in his voice. “Where is that lovely young man,” he adds at what Laurent knows is his most ironic. 

“I believe he’s spending the rest of his holiday break travelling in Southest Asia,” Laurent informs him.

“You worry me,” Damen replies, no trace of concern in his voice whatsoever. “What if he decides to come plague me in Australia?”

“Afraid he’ll attack you with a fork again? Surely he’s not your number one fear.”

“Well, come to think of it, I hear there are all sorts of dangerous things in Australia - snakes, spiders, crocodiles, witches, knives… Maybe you should come and protect me,” says Damen.

“Damen, you’re Australian. You grew up there,” Laurent reminds him.

“It’s all the time I’ve spent training abroad. I’m suffering from reverse culture shock.”

Laurent gives a huff of laughter. “Wish that I could come and save you, but alas! My duties as prince of the mystery novel prevent me. Speaking of sharp implements, though… what was it you said to provoke Nicaise that time?”

“I thought we agreed never to speak of it again?”

“The thought of an unelucidated mystery keeps me up at night,” says Laurent unrepentantly. 

“You’re not your detective, Laurent,” says Damen. “Speaking of which, your fans conspired with my fans - again - to ambush me at the airport when I landed. I indiscriminately signed posters of myself and books with Charls, the great mystery unraveller, for nearly an hour!” 

Laurent smirks, even though Damen can’t see him. “It’s your own fault, you know. You’re too nice to say no.”

“And who was it that posted a photo of himself with a huge stuffed rabbit from his fans on Twitter?”

“Well, it would have been churlish not to accept a gift. Besides, the German and Czech fans are very special to me,” Laurent replies.

In fact, all of Laurent’s fans are special to him and he’s looking forward to his appearances in the Artes bookshops throughout American and Canada. 

“My first match is the day after tomorrow,” Damen says and Laurent feels there is an extra dose of determination behind the words.

“Promise me you’ll be careful? You’re still one of the highest-ranked players, there’s really not much left for you to prove.”

“Isn’t there?” Damen’s voice is rueful. “Then it must be my ambition. I… don’t think I’ve told you this, but I’ve always aimed to break Auguste’s record. Even more so since I met you. He’s still the one player on everyone’s lips, even though he’s retired now. I think - I actually do think I have a shot at equalling him, at least.”

Laurent is silent for a moment, and Damen takes the opportunity to move the conversation along by asking, “How is he?”

“Doing a creditable job at playing lord of the, well, vinery that he bought in the south of France. I think it is just the thing for him. I’ll have to call him in,” he checks the time, “11 hours to wish him and his wife Happy New Year.”

“Give him my best as well,” Damen says. “I have to wait 10 hours myself to call Nikandros. He decided to visit his γιαγια, sorry, his grandmother, in Greece since he’s not playing in this tournament.”

There is a lull in the conversation.

“I was thinking,” says Laurent quietly. “I know it’s the beginning of the season for you, but maybe, after I’m done with the book tour, you can take a short break too and go some place together? I read about Tayrona online, it’s a great nature park in Colombia, you can go snorkling and hiking, even--”

“Laurent,” Damen stops him gently. “Where is this coming from?”

He hesitates. “I think… we should should spend a bit of time together. Just us.”

“Is this… sentiment?” asks Damen in a rich, warm voice with the merest trace of amusement.

“Hardly,” scoffs Laurent. “But I was looking back at this past year and thought… that perhaps I wasn’t as nice to you as I should have when you were a slave to physical therapy.”

“Laurent, I understand,” says Damen gently. “You had your brother on your mind, and he needed your support more than me. Besides, I’m fully recovered now. Nothing to keep me from reclaiming number one ATP!”

Laurent is quiet for a moment. “I used to think that there wasn’t anyone as noble and generous as Auguste. But you have proved me wrong.” He adds, with a huff of laughter, “again.”

It’s Damen’s turn to be silent. Finally, he says, “Thank you,” before he changes both subject and tone of voice. “So, are you going to watch me play?”

Laurent smiles to himself in appreciation of Damen’s kind action and follows his lead. “Hmm, watch tennis? I rather thought I’d catch the fencing, I heard there are some very talented American épée fencers.”

Damen laughs. “Fair enough,” he says.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Sorry - hold on - it’s the room service,” says Laurent. He sets aside the phone to tip and thank the server, then picks up a sandwich before grabbing the phone to say, “I’m back” in a slightly muffled voice. 

“Let me guess,” says Damen in a voice full of amusement. “That’s a cucumber sandwich, right?”

“...Yes,” Laurent says, and then he chuckles. It seems to be catching, even over the phone, and soon they’re both laughing.

“Enjoy your early breakfast,” says Damen, and then, “Wait, where’s Jord? He’s supposed to get the door for you!”

“Damen, relax, please,” replies Laurent firmly. “He’s already done his security check and everything’s fine.”

“Laurent,” Damen starts, but Laurent doesn’t let him finish. “Stop fussing. That stalker with the stupid moniker is sitting behind bars. He’s not getting out,” he says, with emphasis on not.

He hears Damen take a deep breath. “You’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” says Laurent, steering the conversation away from the topic. “Besides, Jord is still in the hotel. I only gave him half a day off.”

“Why would you--” Damen breaks off. “Laurent, tell me you didn’t.”

“What are you talking about? I merely provided him with the opportunity to spend a few hours with his boyfriend. It is New Year’s Eve, after all.”

“His boyfriend,” says Damen flatly.

“Well, as of, oh, two hours ago. I got the results of the security check on Aimeric just before the plane took off, so what reason was there to keep them apart?”

“...I can’t believe you did a security check on your bodyguard’s potential boyfriend,” Damen says. “Weren’t you against Aimeric from the get-go anyway?”

Laurent chooses to ignore the last part. “Two, actually, but that’s just to make sure the results are indeed accurate,” he says airily. “He passed both with flying colors so really, there’s no need to worry.” 

He decides to switch topics before Damen can give an opinion on this.

“In any case, there’s Orlant here too to pick up the slack. So,--” 

Laurent is interrupted by muffled booming noises from the phone’s speaker.

“Oh,” says Damen in mild surprise. “It’s midnight here already.”

Laurent smiles. “They say you’ll spend the year as you’ve started it.”

“What, on the phone?”

Laurent laughs gently. “If you will. Or you can see it as me being by your side.”

Damen’s voice, when it comes through the phone, is now deeper than before. “Yes. I’d very much like to see it that way. Happy New Year, Laurent.”

“Happy New Year, my love.”


End file.
